


work days

by AlesiaM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M, Sexual Violence, Top Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 10:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlesiaM/pseuds/AlesiaM
Summary: AU, in which Victor has a subordinate Yuuri.





	work days

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my language. But I like to try new things and share my stories. I do not know what will come of it, but I hope to please you. Translates google :)))

Yuuri sat under the office, nervously clutching a quarterly report in trembling hands. The chief accountant called him to him about twenty minutes ago, but so far he was busy. Another victim, apparently. From behind the door came the loud, displeased voice of Nikiforov. Finally, the door opened and a tall red-haired girl jumped out into the corridor. Yuuri managed to notice her reddened eyes and trembling lips before the corridor was filled with the sound of rapidly moving heels.

“Mila, from the sales department. The boss is out of sorts,” thought Katsuki, going into the office to the main. The fact that Victor was summoning him to his office did not bode well. One tone of an angry boss infuriated Yuuri with panic. His heart pounded in his chest, and the boats were covered with a nasty cold sweat.

\- Called, Viktor Andreyevich? - Yuuri is most disgusted by this subservient ingratiating tone. Well, at least she doesn’t stutter and that’s okay.

Victor looks up from the papers and looks irritably at the newcomer.

\- Well, since you are here, you have called. - icy-colored blue eyes do not bode well. - What are you writing to me, Yuuri? Didn't go to school? Is math bad at all?

\- I AM...

\- What, Yuuri? What?! - Nikiforov quickly gets up from the table, and begins to irritably measure the cabinet with steps. - Hire you Japanese to work!.. Do you understand that your mistakes stopped the work? We do not meet the deadlines! And who is to blame? Who failed the work of the department? BUT?

Yyuri trembles nervously, staring at the floor. What should he say to the raging boss?

\- S-s-sorry .... I ... c-correct ...

Of course you will! Immediately if you do not want to lose your job. I do not need such workers! Do you know how many people people want this position? - Victor throws a report in the direction of Yuuri, and sheets of white paper fly across the floor.

\- I ... Ik ... c-corrected ... Ik ..

\- I know. Correct it. Here and now. Take off your pants, Katsuki.

Yuuri seems to have misheard. He casts an incredulous look at Nikiforov, but Victor stands with an unreadable expression on his face, only blue eyes throw lightning and his fingers beat off the nerve fraction on a wooden countertop.

\- What?..

\- What? Do you still hear hard? How did you just get hired? I say take off your pants. You will work out.

With trembling fingers, Yuuri touches the belt. And again indecisively freezes.

\- Maybe not? ..

\- Yes, fucking, it is necessary, Fedya, it is necessary!

Katsuki does not understand at all what else Fedya is, but the blond is already nearby and, having ripped off his trousers from Yuri, knocks the latter onto the table. Nikiforov throws his legs over his shoulders and freezes for a moment in thought.

"God, he will take it without lubrication now!" - the frightened one flies in the head of the Japanese.

But Victor, snorting something under his breath, still takes out a tube from somewhere in the bowels of the box. Fingers cold from lubrication enter sharply and painfully, completely giving no time to prepare, to get used to. Victor does not care about him, quickly strokes the delicate walls and again abruptly pushes forward. Yuri bites her lip in pain, trying not to moan. Although treacherous moisture still accumulates in the corners of chocolate eyes. Meanwhile, Victor, having decided that Yuuri is sufficiently prepared, replaces his fingers with something more. Sharply and firmly pushed between the hips Katsuki, entering the entire length of a rather large member.

\- Repeat after me.

The push.

\- I will never again make mistakes in reports.

The chief accountant pronounces loudly and clearly, accompanying each word with a sharp movement of the hips.

\- Yuuri! ..  
Another push. Whatever you say, Victor skillfully fucks. Yuri would have even wondered where the blond got such an experience if he hadn’t been laid out on a large wooden table now. Gradually, pain is replaced by the first timid waves of pleasure. They are born somewhere in the gut and spread under the skin by a hot wave of heat. Another friction, and the Japanese feels like a heavy table slowly and noisily begins to move. Victor swears quietly, and, catching Katsuki, pulls him off the table. Now, Yuuri is practically hanging on Victor, clinging to her beautiful broad shoulders.

\- Yuri!

Not a single phrase has been given Yuri so hard in his entire life. Finally he manages to utter the desired.

\- I ... will never ... make mistakes in the reports anymore ... Ah ... Mm ... V-viik-taar! ..

Yuuri ends noisily, shouting Victor's name, and frantically clenching her fingers on the latter's back. Surely there will be red stripes. After a couple of moments, the blue-eyed one joins him. Shouting chokedly, he imprints Katsuki on the table with the last sharp push, pouring out a warm, viscous seed. For some time he breathes confusedly into the lover's neck, and then abruptly moves away, leaving a light reverent kiss on his skin.

\- Do you understand? - a slight nod. - Here. And for the errors in the annual general department we fuck.

Victor straightens his clothes and helps Yuri get dressed. Then he returns to the chair and, sitting down at the long-suffering table, pushes another pile of papers toward himself.

\- Go on, Yuuri. Think about your behavior. Correct yourself. - Nikiforov glances at the next report, sighs. - And call me Gosha Popovich from the planned one. Something he is not friends with mathematics either. Absolutely.


End file.
